


Several Times Dakavendish Turns Into Stuff

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Series: MML Discord Drabbles [11]
Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: M/M, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29501583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: What it says on the tin. Each chapter is stand-alone.
Relationships: Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota
Series: MML Discord Drabbles [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1369027
Kudos: 4





	1. Spongecake

“I think this thing is broken,” Dakota said with a huff, twisting the knob on the device in his hands again. “Do you feel anything now?”

Cavendish shook his head. “Nothing. Maybe we should take it back?” 

The device made a sad chirruping sound, and for a moment, Dakota glanced at Cavendish excitedly. He looked back down in defeat when all Cavendish did was shrug. “Nah, we can’t do that. The lady said we couldn’t return it, remember?”

“But if it’s defective—“ Cavendish began, cutting himself off as Dakota poked at him halfheartedly with the end of the device that looked a little like the pincers of a lobster. “What are you doing now?” 

“I dunno,” Dakota answered, continuing to prod at Cavendish absently. “I guess ‘m just bored, now?” He pulled the device away with a sigh. “Serves us right for going to discount sex shops, I guess.”

“They have to be able to do _something_ for us if it’s defective,” Cavendish protested again. He flopped back on the bed dramatically, with a flair that was actually a little surprising. Usually, Dakota was the one with more theatrics than anyone knew what to do with.

Ah, well, Dakota wasn’t gonna complain. Not about Cavendish being dramatic, anyways. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he replied with a shrug. Beside him on the bed, Cavendish made a strained grunting sound, finally prompting Dakota’s attention away from the device again. 

“What are you doing?” Dakota asked curiously. Cavendish was lying absolutely prone on the bed, and maybe it was just the crappy lighting in their bedroom, but he looked... different. He looked... _spongier_ than he usually did? 

“I... can’t move,” Cavendish said after a moment. It was muffled, presumably by the fact that his lips barely moved when he spoke, and he sounded a strangely familiar mix of horny and frustrated. “Dakota!” 

“Oh, shit.” Dakota immediately tossed the device onto the bedside table and turned so his entire body was facing Cavendish’s prone form. “It worked?!”

Cavendish made another garbled noise of frustration, but the sound trailed into a moan as Dakota hesitantly reached out and poked him in the arm, right where he’d been touching him with the device before. Dakota watched with a sick fascination as his finger easily slid into Cavendish’s skin to the knuckle. 

“You’re spongecake,” Dakota stated, a little dumbly. “Oh my god. I’m gonna have such a stomachache.” Despite the impending sickness he knew he was certain to feel later, Dakota could feel himself grinning wildly. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Armchair

Dakota had never been more turned on in his _life_ , and he was pretty sure he didn’t even have any genitalia to speak of in his current predicament to reflect it. That was a damn shame, really. 

On top of him, Cavendish shifted a little, and Dakota would have screamed if he’d had a mouth to express his horny discomfort. 

Honestly, it wasn’t even his _fault_ , that he’d been turned into a chair! Sure, the folks at the weird little strip mall sex shop had warned him that the aphrodisiacs he was purchasing did strange things past their expiration date, but Dakota had expected a little nausea, maybe some rampant horniness, some kind of bodily fluid leak that he couldn’t control. 

He’d take pissing himself any day over being turned into a fucking _armchair_. 

As awful as being an overstuffed chair was, the torture of inanimate life had nothing on the torture of actually being _sat upon_. (Or maybe sat _in_? Dakota really didn’t have the brainpower at hand to focus on the semantics.) 

(As a chair, did he even _have_ a brain?)

An hour ago, Cavendish had walked into their shared shitty apartment, and instead of being confused about a new chair in the middle of the room, he had simply fallen into it with an exhausted groan. Minutes later, he was asleep, and Dakota was caught in a bizarre state of slightly embarrassed and _horny out of his fucking mind_. Every time Cavendish twisted or turned in his sleep, it sent a bolt of heat shocking through Dakota so quickly that he was a little worried he might spontaneously catch on fire. 

Actually, catching on fire might wake Cav up and get him the hell _off_ to end this blissful torture, so maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. 

One more wiggle from Cavendish later, Dakota just wished he had a face so he could cry, because now Cav was _drooling on his arm_ , and that was even worse than being hopelessly turned on and unable to do anything about it could ever be.


	3. Q Tip

_”Are you serious?” Cavendish asked, holding up a blazer in front of his chest and scowling at Dakota’s reflection in the mirror. The reflection grinned back at him._

_”Yeah! It’ll look great on you!” Dakota replied enthusiastically. Cavendish shook his head, then turned with a dramatic flourish to face the actual Dakota sitting on the bed behind him._

_”It’s_ orange _” Cavendish said, dropping the word carelessly like it had somehow managed to offend him._

_“And?”_

_Cavendish grimaced, turning back to the mirror again. “It’s orange,” he repeated dryly. Dakota giggled, and then picked up a jar from Cavendish’s bedside curiously. Cavendish’s eyes went wide. “No, Dakota, don’t—!”_

* * *

There was a curious pounding sensation in Dakota’s head when he opened his eyes, one that felt a little like a hangover, but that also felt a little like he’d run a marathon without drinking any water during it. He went to rub his eyes before realising that he couldn’t move his arms. 

It wasn’t the weirdest feeling he’d ever felt. The realisation that followed, however, might have been, because he didn’t think that he actually _had_ arms, anymore. 

“Um...” Dakota said. Tried to say. No sound actually reverberated around him, and he was pretty sure he’d only thought it in his head. 

Okay, yeah. This was quickly taking the cake for _weirdest thing he’d ever felt._

Cavendish’s voice startled him into looking around, even though he wasn’t certain if he even had eyes anymore, either.

“—stupid, ridiculous, going to make us late for the party—“ Cavendish muttered under his breath. His voice seemed... louder, somehow, than it usually did, even though it didn’t sound like he was making any effort to raise it. 

A giant hand covered Dakota’s entire line of sight, and Dakota screamed. Tried to scream. 

“—and to think, this was going to make it so much easier to deal with that rogue time agent, but _no_ , somebody had to go and poke his fingers where he wasn’t supposed to.”

The hand shifted so that Dakota had a view of the world again, and he finally realised that he was still in Cavendish’s room. Cavendish was there, too, wearing his normal green suit —which was unfortunate, because the orange one really did look delicious on him— and glaring down at him in annoyance. 

“I don’t even know what you turned into, you idiot,” Cavendish said, and with that, he tossed Dakota —and a smattering of other small objects— onto the desk in the corner. He considered the pile for a moment, and then set aside an orange eraser that Dakota knew he’d been carrying in his pocket. “That must be it,” he said decisively. Whatever he’d decided finished and done with, Cavendish picked squinted down at Dakota again before his hand came down to pick him up and— 

Well. Dakota had never claimed to _want_ to be acquainted with the inside of Cavendish’s nose, but he sure as hell could say he was now, that was for sure. _Ew_.


	4. Peep

“Uh... Cav?” 

Cavendish paused in their driveway, turning back to stare at his husband. Dakota, for his part, was standing stock-still on the passenger side of their beat-up old lemon. His hand was still on the door, but the door was already closed. 

“We’ve got frozens, love, what is it?” Cavendish responded, already turning to continue his trek into the house. They’d been out grocery shopping all morning; the last thing he wanted to do was let all their hard work go to waste because the peas melted into mush in his hands. 

Dakota made a humming noise behind him, his shoes slapping loudly against the pavement as he suddenly bolted past Cavendish. He shoved his key in the lock and jerked the door open, rushing inside in a stumbling run and leaving Cavendish blinking at his retreating backside in confusion. 

Oh well. Whatever had gotten into him could very-well wait until Cavendish had finished putting the groceries away. Probably. 

Maybe? Hopefully. Cavendish would assume as much, especially since the house was already quiet again when he made it inside with their groceries. 

* * *

While they’d been walking around the store, Dakota _might_ have gotten hungry while they’d been shopping, and he _might_ have opened up the first package he’d snagged from a shelf as they’d walked by and started munching. But they’d paid for it! He... was pretty sure? He was pretty sure they’d paid for it! 

That didn’t explain the strange, not-totally-unfamiliar tugging sensation in his stomach, like his insides were getting... _squishy._ Not that his insides weren’t normally squishy— that would be weird, actually, if they weren’t. But it definitely felt like they were squishier than they normally were. 

He poked at his stomach and cringed when his finger sunk in to the first knuckle without causing him any pain. That... wasn’t a good sign. It could be worse! But it wasn’t great. 

Cavendish was going to be _pissed._ Or hungry. Maybe both, if Dakota was lucky.

“Cav?” Dakota called. He heard the sound of a cupboard closing in response, and let out a heavy sigh. His legs were already starting to feel too sticky for normal legs, so there was no chance of him running back downstairs again. Cav would just have to come to him, eventually. 

Dakota stuck his hands in his pockets, stumbling backwards to fall unceremoniously onto their bed. He clutched at nothing, holding onto the inner lining and—

Oops. He pulled one hand out again, and clutched in his fist was the crumpled, crinkled packaging that he’d emptied in the store. Maybe they hadn’t actually paid for it, after all. 

The packaging fell from his fingers as they became limp, and Dakota closed his eyes as the sensations overtaking him became too much to handle. His body was shrinking, falling with a surprisingly plushness against the comforter. When his eyes opened again, he didn’t have a choice in the matter, and he couldn’t blink them shut again when he tried. Instead, they seemed to be stuck on open, and laced with a sugary sweetness to boot. 

Their bedroom door opened, and Cavendish poked his head inside. “Dakota, dear, are you alright?” he asked. Dakota tried to answer him, but found that he had no capable mouth to do so. So instead, he did his best to wiggle atop the bed.

Even with his best efforts, Dakota went unnoticed for another few seconds as Cavendish stepped cautiously into the room. “Dakota?” he repeated. “Where—?” His gaze landed on Dakota, and a knowing, resigned look came upon his face. “I told you not to eat them in the store. You always forget to take the wrappings out of your pocket,” he chided. It was unfair of him to chide, Dakota thought privately, when there was no way for Dakota to make an attempt to defend himself. Not that Cav was _wrong_ , but it was the principle of the thing! It was kicking a horse when it was down, or.... something. 

Cavendish picked him up, and Dakota shivered. Or thought about shivering? Everything was a little hazy. “Really, darling, if you’re going to do this every time, at least pick something I like.” He squeezed Dakota between his fingers, and Dakota wanted to melt in anticipation. “I’ve never been much a fan of peeps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos/comments are love! Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans.


End file.
